


Ancient Creatures

by notjustmom



Series: Ironstrange [41]
Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV), Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, M/M, messing with time, some Fluff later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-02-07 06:57:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18615487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: This is for my vampires and witches squares, and is inspired by A Discovery of Witches. I'm hoping to make it a long story, but I'm in recovery from Endgame, so we'll see what happens with my writing over the next week....





	1. 2008

September 2008: Tony

He groaned inwardly as he searched the room for a friendly face and finally spotted Pepper chatting away with a small crowd of the Stark Industries secretaries, wearing a backless gown in a shade of teal that complimented her coloring perfectly. He smirked appreciatively as he realized it must have been the birthday present she had picked out for herself, months ago in his name. She had always had excellent taste. He thanked the bartender with a nod as he picked up his scotch, then shuddered as he took a sip, and reminded himself why he was out in public for the first time since his ill-advised press conference hours after his return home. 

He needed to be seen, to prove to his stockholders and the general public that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, nothing wrong with him whatsoever. He swore under his breath as the drink in his hand shook slightly, but he managed to toss it back with the air of carefully crafted arrogant indifference he was once known for, then returned the glass to the bar. He turned away, wishing for the dimly lit quiet safety of his workshop as he glanced around the room that had become too bright and too noisy for him. He stopped short when silver eyes focused their light on him; he had to remind himself to breathe and couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him stop thinking, he was always thinking. It had been years, no; it had been decades.

Oxford before the war?

He blinked and the man was standing in front of him, his eyes weren’t just silver on second glance, they were blue, green, with a bit of brown, no, they were silver again. The last time he’d seen eyes that shimmered like that…

“Mr. Stark. I’m Dr. Stephen…”

“... Strange.” Strong, elegant fingers lingered a bit too long on his wrist, as if he were checking his pulse, but he found he couldn’t pull away, he didn’t want to pull away. It had been so long since the last time he had heard that voice, it no longer held the generations of London’s elite, but he could hear remnants of the British Isles in the way he muted the strong New York accent, as if it offended his own ears. 

There was no mistaking the sharp lines and the trace of humor in the way he raised a single eyebrow at him as his ancestors once had. He fought to maintain a sense of where and when he was, as the man gently steered him to a chair at a table in one of the few dark, quiet corners of the room. “You’re a neurosurgeon, in Manhattan, I’ve read your papers.” His voice didn’t sound quite right, but the man next to him didn’t seem bothered. “What brings you to my - here? I know I would have remembered if you’d attended before -”

The finely chiseled features softened into a smile for the first time and the voice purred at his ear, “I saw that extraordinary press conference in April, and made a donation to your foundation; luckily I had to be in Los Angeles this week for a bit of training, I never miss out on a chance to learn about the new tech in my field.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at the man who was smiling at him, in a way that recalled the nights before the war began, of a time when he believed his life was perfect, and it had been for a few years, before it all went to hell. He shook his head and cleared his throat, as he made himself remember when and where he was. “You didn’t answer my question, Strange, what are you doing here?”

“You know why I’m here, Mr. Stark. It’s been far too long, Anthony.”

 

April 2008: Stephen

He rarely spent time in the lounge, preferring to avoid his colleagues in his few moments of downtime, and never watched the news if he could help it, but he had just worked a difficult twelve hour shift, knew he was in no shape to attempt the ten minute drive home, and definitely was not in the mood to tolerate the chitchat of a New York cabbie. He dropped onto the couch and looked up at the screen, which was airing the oddest press conference he’d ever seen. He found the remote and turned up the sound. Tony Stark, the one-time prodigy, son of the late Howard Stark had returned from Afghanistan, somehow he had managed to escape from a cave, no one knew how, they had found him wandering the desert, after three months. As exhausted as he was, Stephen dragged himself from the couch and moved closer to the screen, in order to study the man who had just convinced the most powerful press in the world to sit at his feet, as if he were royalty.

He started as a cameraman zoomed in tightly on Stark’s face, and he felt something he could only describe as a heart attack. He pressed his hand over his own chest and tried to breathe through the aftershocks. It was what he imagined people felt, after an amputation, when they described a phantom pain. He blinked as Stark moved to the podium, and announced his company would no longer manufacture weapons for the U.S. government or for anyone else. The room fell silent for a long moment, as if in shock, then erupted into confusion as Stark was quickly escorted out of the building. 

Stephen rubbed at his chest, and tried to breathe normally. He had never felt anything like it before, it was as if he had suddenly become tethered to something infinitely more powerful and yet more fragile than himself. He looked back up at the screen and studied a still image of Stark’s face, then closed his eyes, and was struck by the realization that the stories passed down in his family through the centuries were true. Tony Stark appeared to most people to be nearing his fourth decade on Earth, when in fact, he was closing in on his 11th century and it was clear to Stephen, as it had been to his forefathers before him, his fate and his heart were inextricably linked to Tony Stark; a bond strong enough to survive anything, including death.

 

September 2008: Pepper

She had not expected Stephen Strange to appear at the gala, nor had she expected the generous donation he had sent to the Foundation in April. It appeared he had seen the press conference, and been inspired by Tony’s remarkable story to open his wallet; the beautifully handwritten letter that accompanied the check was nearly as remarkable as the size of the check, and a shiver shot through her as she watched him guide Tony away from the chaos of the party and to a quiet table in the corner. He caught her eye and offered her a wink and a smile, and somehow she knew Tony was safe in his hands, and she turned her focus back to the conversation that was burbling around her. An hour later she glanced over to where they had been sitting and they were gone.

 

September 2008: Tony and Stephen

“What do you know?” Tony asked quietly as he felt Stephen’s long fingers loosen his tie.

“Direct as always, aren’t you?” Stephen smirked then began on the buttons of his shirt, but stopped as Tony’s eyes darkened, and he stepped back, but left his hand resting on Tony’s chest. “I’ve known of you, the person you claim to be, in this century, as most people do, through the tabloids and news outlets, but in April, I had just finished a brutal shift, and had crashed on a couch in the lounge which I rarely do and looked up at the television, which I never watch and there you were, the conquering hero, home safe from three months of captivity. I saw a close up of your face, and I realized who you really were. Not the son of Howard Stark - a good cover though, but the son of a bastard son of -” 

He stopped as Tony reached out and placed a finger on his lips and again was struck by a sensation he didn’t understand. He closed his eyes and knew he should fear the man who stood in front of him. But for all his intellect and instinct, all he could sense was stillness. He knew better than to trust the silence of a vampire, but he also knew the stories, the stories that had been passed down that told of love bonds between the Strange family and the singular creature who had survived for over a thousand years.

“I don’t know why I did that press conference, I know better. I’ve been close to death more times than I can count; I’ve survived Inquisitions, Revolutions, World Wars, Cold Wars, and the occasional jilted lover, but this time -” Stephen opened his eyes as he heard the sound of fabric settling to the floor, then blinked as his fingers were placed over the glowing arc reactor in Tony’s chest.

He was more curious than horrified, he realized his years of training had kicked in the moment he felt cold metal instead of slightly chilled skin under his fingers. “I don’t - how - why -?” He lifted his hand from Tony’s chest and placed it on his tightly held jawline, and waited until he felt him slowly relax.

The voice he had dreamed of spoke quietly, as if afraid he would walk away once he finally shared his story. “My captors were a bit overly aggressive with their assault on my humvee, they used one of my missiles, and a warhead went off too close to me, well, you see the results -” his breath caught as Stephen’s fingers were once again on his chest, exploring the damage that had been left behind. His voice became rougher and barely audible, but he went on.“My heart was so damaged that I had to be fitted with an electromagnet to keep the rest of the shrapnel from doing even more damage, I woke up to find I was attached to a car battery. I am ashamed to say I came to rather freaked out. You’d think by now nothing that humans are capable of would surprise me, and as torture goes, I’d been through far worse, but -” He shivered as Stephen pressed gentle kisses along his collarbone, then moved to that one spot just behind his ear and he felt his knees buckle as he crumbled slowly to the floor. “Strange - god, how I’ve missed you.”


	2. 2008/1938

Tony studied the young man who somehow felt safe sleeping next to him, and wondered why now, now when he felt he was barely holding on? But then, the Strange family always had their own sense of time, didn't they? How many years had it been, since he had last touched and been touched by the man who had saved him time and time again? Nearly seventy years. This Strange had Harry's eyes, and charm, and he found himself wondering if he had the same powerful magic running through his veins. There had been a moment, when he could have kept Harry by his side, but Harry had made him swear before the world went crazy again, that he would let him go when his time came, and he had kept his promise. 

 

June 1938

 

"Promise me something," Harry whispered as he watched Anthony's eyes close after their picnic lunch.

"Anything."

"I'm serious." His normally playful voice became dark for once and Anthony sat up and looked down into his lover's face.

"Ask."

"If something should happen -"

"What could possibly - Harry?"

"I know you have found ways through the centuries of surviving the violence that humans can concoct against one another. My magic, strong as it is - if anything happens to me, I need you to swear to me, that you will let me go."

Anthony looked up at the cloudless sky and blinked against its nearly unnatural brightness, then gazed down into Harry's eyes again, and after breathing a kiss over his forehead drew back and blinked up at the sky. "I swear, Harry. I would never wish for you to become something you would loathe becoming."

Harry reached up and laid a hand over his chest, and waited for him to meet his eyes again. "It isn't that, lover, and you know it. Don't make this into a tribal issue."

"I'm not the one -"

"I just believe when it's my time to go -"

"There is nothing natural about war. You know as well as I do that war is a man-made creation. You're a historian, Harry. No, you weren't around when wars were mostly local skirmishes or exercises in religious extremism, and you weren't quite fighting age during the last great dust up, but you know..." He stared at him for a moment as he began to understand what was running through Harry's head. "You wouldn't put yourself purposely in harm's way, would you? This is not our battle, it is humans who keep finding ways to hate each other enough, we can leave, go somewhere safe until -."

Harry stopped the stream of words that seemed to fall from Anthony's mouth with a kiss, of such sweetness, that he would have promised him anything that was asked of him, but Harry simply smiled back at him and shook his head. "You know I love you more than anything, Sweet-pea, and I want to live a long life with you, you know that, but I never want to resent you, I just want to spend what time we have loving each other. You know what I mean, I know you do, even better than I do."

Anthony stretched out on the blanket again and stared up into the sky as the clouds moved in and wondered briefly if Harry had any hand in the abrupt change in weather, then closed his eyes, and nodded. "Yes. Of course. You know I do. You have my word, Harry."

 

September 2008

 

He couldn't remember the last time he had thought of Harry, it had been decades. Decades since he had allowed himself to recall his smile, the way his eyes would light up when he laughed, how he had held him. He had sworn he would never - how often had he done that over the centuries? It was insanity. Who was it who had said that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the same results?

"I believe it was Einstein, or it could have been Twain, they get blamed for most of the wisdom that we tend to ignore these days."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. It's just two now -"

"Nightmare?"

Tony shook his head. "I wasn't asleep. I'm usually working, and I haven't done this in decades."

Stephen laughed and whispered, "I'm honored, truly."

The warm laughter reminded him that he was still alive, as broken as he was, he had been broken before, and survived, and he would survive loving the man who pulled him into his arms and hummed an ancient lullaby that was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't name it before he fell asleep, and for once was not visited by nightmares of his own making.


	3. 2008/1935

September 2008 Pepper and Tony

 

She placed the breakfast she made every morning in front of him, even though she knew it would be ignored, but after so many centuries, she found she couldn't break the habit. He glanced up at her, then wrapped his hands around his mug as he shook his head at the unasked questions she was afraid to ask him.

"Yes, it's him. Yes, of course it's ridiculous, and yes, if I were smart, I'd run as fast and as far from him as I possibly can. And yet, as you know me so well, you know that is the last thing I will do, especially now." He took a sip of coffee then smiled ruefully at her as she sat down across from him at the table. "I didn't expect him quite so soon, and yet, it feels like it has been centuries since I lost - him. The last few years have been challenging to say the least, especially the last few months, but I don't need to tell you that, do I? Yet I finally feel as if I can serve some greater purpose, especially to him; he is so young, and yet his magic is even more powerful than Harry's. I think the reason I showed up at the Gala last night was because I knew he'd be there. It was just a sensation, nothing specific, but I wasn't really surprised to see him there. But you knew -"

"I honestly didn't think he would come all this way, and after what had happened -"

"I know you were just protecting me, Pep. You don't need to."

"I should have been able to help you and him, there should have been a way to stop it..." She bit her lip, as they had sworn all those years ago never to speak of that time or of what happened to Henry Strange in the last days of the war, when she had known Tony had finally found the one he could have, would have spent eternity with if -

"Pepper. _Ginny._ " His soft utterance of her old name snapped her back to the present day and she realized somehow she had finished her cup of coffee, though she didn't remember drinking it. He had pushed his untouched plate away and was holding her hands in both of his. "He didn't want to be anything but what he was, and I promised him. I got to say goodbye to him, that's more than most people had in those years." 

She looked into the warm, brown eyes that had seen far too much of the darkest parts of humanity, and made herself remember that time, after the Great War, the war to end all wars had finally ended, all those young lives taken far too soon, but they had believed, at least humanity had believed they had sacrificed enough to last their lifetime. She and Tony had closed the family home, and disappeared to South America for a few years, only to return to England just in time to feel the rumblings of war around them once again, and though they did what they could to prevent the coming storm, it was inevitable, as was the appearance of his soul mate, the historian, Henry Strange.

" _Cousin._ " She turned from his gaze, as he didn't need her dark and heavy thoughts now. Henry, _Harry_ was long gone; the kindest and wisest of souls, who was just beginning to gain control of his powers when he was lost to them, and to time. Perhaps there would be something in this new incarnation that she would recognize, that he might know her as Harry had. She held out little hope, as she had sensed only pain and arrogance in the man as he introduced himself to her just the previous evening, only minutes before Tony had arrived. "Give him a chance, for me?" He grinned as she nodded at him, what choice did she have? He rose slowly from the table, and she tried to keep the worry from her eyes, but as always, he knew exactly what she was thinking. 

"Don't worry so, Pep. I'm going down to the workshop for a few hours, perhaps - no, never mind."

"What?" She asked him quietly, though she knew what he was going to ask of her.

"I was just wondering, I know it's a lot to ask of you, and if you don't want to, I understand. But, if he wakes before you head to the office, could you answer any questions he might have? He seems to have a sense of his powers that Harry never had, and he knows or thinks he knows what I am, what we are, what we could be together. He knows instinctively that he should fear me, but he also - well, you knew when you saw us together -"

"Yes, of course, I knew, Tony." She didn't complete her thought out loud as he kissed her forehead and disappeared down to the only place he felt at peace these days, in the workshop where he was creating something he wouldn't share with anyone, not even with her.

 

September 1935 Pepper and Harry

 

"May I help you?" Virginia Potts asked the stunning young man at the door. Tall, lean and dark, and the brightest, most intelligent eyes she had ever seen.

"Ms. Potts." He bowed deeply as he once had, or rather his ancestor once had, then straightened up and grinned at her.

"Mr. Strange."

"Henry. Or, if you like, you may call me -"

"Harry."

"Harry it is then. Where is the mad bastard keeping himself these days? Tinkering away on some gadget or other? I'm sure he has at least one of these gas-propelled monsters I'm seeing banging into each other in town."

"You know he does, I'm sure he will be delighted to show them to you. Do be kind, and none of your tricks, he is getting up in years you know and one day -"

Harry took her hand and kissed it gently, and she couldn't help but blush. "I will do my very best, Ms. Potts, your cousin is safe in my hands."

"Enough, go on with you, you will stay for tea?" A statement more than a question, but she was afraid he was little more than an apparition and would disappear all too soon.

"Miss one of your famous teas? Never!" Then he turned towards the hallway which led to a shortcut to Anthony Stark's workshop as if he had been away only for a week or two, not the century and a half which was the last time a Strange had brightened the darkness of their lives and the ancient halls they called home.

 

September 2008 Pepper and Stephen

 

She started when he began humming a long forgotten tune as he crossed over to the coffeemaker. "Good morning, Dr. Strange, I apologize."

"A good morning to you, Ms. Potts. It is I who should apologize to you," he murmured as he turned to face her. "I should have given you some warning that I would be attending the gala last night, but I suppose I wanted to surprise him. A bit childish - not normally my style, but when I saw the press conference in April, and understood who he was, that he wasn't just a story, one of those yarns my grandfather loved to tell us right before bed - his brother was Harry, you see, and -"

She got up from the table and walked over to him slowly, then searched his eyes for a long moment and nodded as she hesitantly reached for his hands. "You have his eyes."

He felt himself shiver as he took her hands in his and whispered gently, "I do not wish him any harm, Ms. Potts. I am a man of science, of reason, and I know I should be on that plane that will be leaving in three hours, and I should forget about him, and you, and go back to my career, but I know more than I've ever known anything else that my place is here."

"Do you?"

He nodded, and squeezed her fingers lightly, then let go of her hands as he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee. "I have always felt incomplete, as if there was a dark veil that blocked me from seeing what I was meant to see, what I was truly meant to be. I know to anyone else but you that would sound ridiculous, it still seems so to my own ears, but, last night, when I saw him, even from across the room, I knew, for the first time in my life I was exactly when and where I was meant to be. I know he needs me, and though I've never admitted it before, I know I need him. I've been on my own for so long, I know, compared to him and to you, I'm little more than a child, but, I've finally come home, Ginny." He froze and turned back to look at her and tried to speak, but she shook her head, and taking his hand again, gently led him out of the kitchen and into the room that served as Tony's library.


	4. 2008/1935

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When entire sentences are in italics, it indicates that the speaker is being heard by the other person only in their head.
> 
> * from the ballad Waly, Waly first published in 1724 
> 
> **from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass

September 2008 Stephen and Pepper

 

Stephen stopped short as he closed his eyes and took in the scent of the ancient books and tapestries. Pepper stood back and watched for a moment, then blinked back the tears that were threatening to overtake her and moved to the window to give him a chance to collect himself.

"I know this place. No. Not this place, but the scent, these books." He walked over to the well maintained piano, and ran his fingers over the lid, but didn't lift it. "Ever since I saw the press conference, there has been a piece of music that I can't get out of my head." He hummed the piece of music again and Pepper stopped and turned to look at him, then walked over to the piano and sat down, and her fingers found the correct positions as he began to sing:

"The water is wide, I cannot get o'er  
And neither have I wings to fly.  
O go and get me some little boat,  
To carry o'er my true love and I. 

A-down in the meadows the other day  
A-gath'ring flow'rs both fine and gay  
A-gath'ring flowers, both red and blue,  
I little thought what love could do."* 

He stopped abruptly and he asked in a rough whisper. "How old is this song, Pepper?"

Without turning to look at him, she replied lightly, but with a slight tremble, "1724."

"Eighteenth century. How do I know it? Why -?" He seemed to understand suddenly without needing an answer and he strode over the bookshelves and pulled out a small volume of poetry. "This is his favorite."

"The Whitman. You - _he_ \- gave it to him on his birthday. A first edition. Harry was so pleased when he saw the look on Tony's face."

"He had saved up for it. I -"

Pepper finally closed the piano and turned to look at him. She studied his profile, and she drew in a sharp breath, exactly the same, yet not. Where Harry had lines of laughter at his eyes and mouth, it was clear that Stephen had rarely spent much time laughing or singing, unlike his ancestor. 

He turned then and caught her searching his face. "You are looking for him in me. I don't know, Ginny. Damn. Sorry, Pepper. I know this will sound quite mad, but it's not just Harry that I can feel here, it's a jumble." He sighed as he closed his eyes and touched a long finger to his forehead. "But here," he moved his hand over his chest and murmured, "it's all Harry. At least now I understand why I could never find someone, not that I had much time to date, but - I knew him, Tony. Last night. Sorry, probably TMI."

She laughed and got up from the piano bench and shook her head. "I do have work to do in the 'real world,' but I can make you some breakfast before I go." She studied his face again, and walked over to stand in front of him, then placed her hands on his face, and met all the questions in his silver eyes; the questions she could hear so clearly in her head, not quite Harry's voice, but so very like, something in the tone. She knew he wasn't ready yet, so she smiled gently at him and let her hands drop. "Don't run, Stephen. I mean that figuratively and literally. He's hiding downstairs, trying to make sense of you. When he's ready, he will come to you. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You are most welcome, Stephen Strange. Now, I'm late, so I must dash, but I will be home in a few hours, and if you still have questions then, I'll do my best to answer them."

"Thank you, Pepper." He glanced at her and offered her a nervous smile then bowed to her as Harry had done when she had opened the door to him that first time.

She couldn't help but giggle at him, and watched as he blushed a charming shade of pink. "You are a show off, aren't you? Don't worry, he already - he still loves - he never stopped loving him. Just give him some time."

"I will."

 

September 2008

 

Tony grumbled at his fingers which still weren't quite right, he had to depend more on DUM-E than he wanted to, he just couldn't feel things as he used to, the nerve damage he had suffered in Afghanistan should recover given time, but he needed to get this right this first time, and he needed to get it finished as soon as possible. He just had the feeling he was running out of time, the one thing he always thought he had plenty of. Maybe it was meeting Stephen last night, or just maybe it was what happened when they went to bed and he nearly called Stephen by Harry's name, but stopped himself in time. He sighed as he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

 

September 1935

 

"Hey, old timer." He looked up to see Harry leaning against the wall and was fortunate he didn't burn himself. He was definitely a Strange, the sharp lines, the full mouth and the laughing iridescent eyes. He could already hear him in his head. _"Harry Strange, historian and general royal pain in the arse."_

Anthony pushed his protective goggles into his hair and couldn't help but smile, even though it had been decades since he last remembered using those particular muscles. There was something grand about the young man in front of him, born just too late to be dragged into the last war, and just old enough that if he were both lucky and smart he would make it through the one that was about to begin in a few short years.

He walked over towards him and kissed him lightly, then whispered, "welcome home, Harry."

 

September 2008

 

"Sorry." Tony blinked at Stephen who had seemed to appear from nowhere. "Pepper told me not to bother you, but I needed to be sure -"

"Be sure of -?" He asked quietly as he narrowed his eyes at him, and tried to regain his composure.

"You. That you are real, and what happened last night actually happened. To be honest, I've never picked up anyone at a party like that before. I don't normally go to parties. I don't really like people generally, but I wanted to be a doctor, I wanted -"

"To be of use."

"Yes."

"Let me see your hands."

"My hands?" Stephen asked in surprise.

"Yes."

Stephen raised his hands as he would when he was scrubbing in, and drew in a sharp breath as Tony walked closer to him, then nodded. "You'll do. You have long, steady fingers, I just need your help with something." Stephen shuddered as he felt, no, he actually heard Tony's voice in his head. _"I trust you."_ He held a hand up to his ear and tried to catch his breath.

Tony carefully laid his hands on Stephen's sharp cheekbones and whispered, "close your eyes. Just listen to my voice, forget about where it's coming from."

Stephen closed his eyes and waited. 

_"I have spent decades when I never spoke aloud except when I had to leave the house. There will come a time when we won't have to speak out loud to each other, and it will become commonplace, like breathing, except easier. I know you are taking a lot on faith right now, and it doesn't come naturally to you. You are a man of science, you like things neat and explainable, you don't trust easily, and you've never allowed yourself to love anyone, not even yourself. You thought if you were the best neurosurgeon in the world it would make up for the hole in your heart. But it didn't. You began searching for me long ago, you didn't necessarily intend to, but your natural curiosity got the better of you-"_

He opened his eyes in surprise as he heard Stephen reply gently, without the arrogance from last night, a bit unpracticed, but in the beautiful voice of his ancestor, _"All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, and to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."**_

Tony whispered in a shattered voice, "Has any one supposed it lucky to be born? I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die and I know it."**

"Tell me what I can do?" 

"Take me upstairs, please."


	5. September 2008 Tony and Stephen

Tony closed his eyes as Stephen helped him up from his chair, and into the elevator. He had to remind himself that the man who had instinctively known to gently place his hand on his back, steadying him, but not trapping him in his arms, was still essentially an unknown element, still a puzzle to solve. He had understood the elevator was the better option, even as he felt the walls begin to crowd in on him as the doors opened again, the stairs were still too much at times, and for once, he was truly exhausted.

When he opened his eyes again, Stephen was kneeling at his feet, gazing up at him.

"I'm sorry for staring."

" _I don't mind._ Sorry. When I'm tired..."

"It's fine. I've missed your voice. Damn. I'm sorry. I know I'm not him, I'm not your Harry, I'm not trying to be, it's just the memories I have are so strong. Ever since I saw the press conference, it's been nearly impossible to sleep, not that I ever slept much before, but there's just so much I've been trying to understand, hmm, it's more of an untangling, if that makes sense? Just so you are aware, I resigned my post in New York before I left, I could still do the work as I always had, but it was becoming harder to focus, when I felt the pull to be here with you. Perhaps I have made assumptions that I shouldn't have?"

Tony shook his head, and found himself getting lost in the silver eyes again, then closed his eyes as Stephen gently eased his shoes and socks from his feet. He held each one for a long moment, and he was reminded of Harry's fascination with them. He had found it oddly endearing, but Harry had said more than once, "they are what connect us to the world, old man... yes, perhaps they are irregularly shaped, asymmetrical, which I know bothers your need for perfection, but yours are...

"Beautiful."

His breathing hitched and his eyes flashed open. Stephen looked up at him and lightly placed his hands on his knees, and he wondered at his gentleness, and his understanding of complete silence. No stray thoughts entered his mind, just a stillness that calmed him in a way that even Harry never could. He had been all energy and light, the fire he had needed, and it had been extinguished far too soon, this Strange offered him a gift of peace. A peace he had never known. Again he felt his thoughts clear as Stephen offered him his hand, and helped him to undress. He let his eyes travel over the landscape of the younger man, as he slowly removed his own clothing, and in the light of day, he could see the familiar terrain he had missed the night before, in their first blind tumble into bed. Now, he could look all he wanted, and as he heard the change in Stephen's breathing, he knew that his gaze was more than welcome.

" _Please._ "

" _Tell me what you want, Stephen._ "

" _You. Just you._ "


	6. 2008

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another short chapter, I know some readers might have been expecting some explicitude, they aren't quite ready yet...

He had realized the night before that Stephen was unaccustomed to being touched, even as he had been the one to make the first move, and as their first time together had been more of a hormonal tussle than anything else, he wanted to slow everything down. He wanted to see that light in his eyes dance, he wanted, no, he _needed_ to feel him fall to pieces under his hands, and hear him, as he called out his name, as - no. He wasn't Harry, was never going to be Harry - 

" _Tony._ "

" _I'm sorry._ "

" _No, I should be the one to apologize. I caught you off guard last night, you weren't expecting me, and I should've realized this was not the best time for you. It was thoughtless of me._ "

Tony sat up and wondered at the man who already had secured a place in his thoughts, and knew his heart would not be far behind. "I went to the gala because I needed to show my face, but this morning, I realized that something else had drawn me there. I'm normally very self-aware, it's what has kept me a few steps ahead, all these centuries, but in Afghanistan -"

"You don't have to tell me."

"I do, though. I was quite sure the first few days after I regained consciousness, that I wasn't going to make it out of that cave. I had never felt fear and anguish in quite that way before, I couldn't even recall feeling that way when I was sired, and I am still trying to understand what to do with that feeling of utter despair. I think -"

" _Don't think anymore tonight._ "

Tony shivered as Stephen reached out to him and drew him carefully into his arms. Again, there were no thoughts, just a deep sense of tranquility, but more than - he heard himself sigh as long fingers began to trace each muscle, as if he were memorizing him with his fingertips, or he were a long treasured instrument, finally reunited with its owner after too many years apart. As he opened his eyes to find Stephen gazing at him in a way that made his toes curl, he understood that for the first time since he was taken captive, he finally felt at home again in his skin, and it took everything in him not to weep.

" _Let it all go, love. You are safe, I won't let anyone hurt you, not ever again._ " The voice was soft, yet fiercely protective, and for the first time in centuries, he settled against Stephen's chest and wept soundlessly for everything the human race had taken from him.


	7. 2008/1943

2008

 

“Tony?”

“Hmm? What - damn.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes, then gazed down into the kaleidoscopic eyes that could see everything and whispered roughly, “what did I do? I didn’t -”

“Nothing, you just had a bad dream. No, you didn’t hurt me, Tony. I know you would never -”

“Stephen. I am what I am, nothing will ever change that, believe me, I’ve tried, even with the technology now, I can’t reverse it -”

“Why would you want to change what and who you are?”

Tony smiled gently at the younger man’s naivete and leaned down, kissing him softly, before he settled into his arms again. “You are so much like Harry, he saw only the best in everyone, in everything. I’ve seen far too much in my life, so much of it, ugly, and yet, I can’t bring myself to leave this world. Every time, every single time I begin to consider it, think about giving up, you show up. Not you, of course, but - I’ve tried to understand, what it is, why I continue to exist, as better people, far more deserving beings than I perish far too soon, I - I serve no purpose, except perhaps -”

“Tony. Show me what you are working on. I know you have something you are trying to finish, let me help you.”

He blinked at him, then whispered in disbelief, “you will be my hands?”

“Yes, I will be your hands and anything else you want me to be.”

Tony placed his trembling fingers over Stephen’s chest and closed his eyes, as he focused on the strong, steady heartbeat that thudded under his fingertips. “My heart, you are already my heart. But you knew that the night we met.” He forced himself to sit up, and he dragged himself out of the warm bed and into his work clothes. He leaned across the bed once more to kiss the man who had been admiring him, unabashedly, as he dressed, then he mumbled against his lips, “coffee, I need coffee. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready to join me.” Stephen’s fingers disentangled from his hair, then he smothered a laugh as Tony blew him a kiss before he disappeared from view.

“ _And you are mine,_ ” Stephen’s voice danced in his mind as he walked into the kitchen. “ _Do not tell me I am too young to know my heart and mind, I am old enough._ ”

“ _I wouldn’t dare._ ” He grinned at Pepper as she kissed his cheek and placed a cup of coffee into his hand.

“Slept well?” She asked, even as she could see the answer before he drank down his espresso, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Better than I have in centuries. I’ll be downstairs, he knows the way.”

“ _Don’t worry, Ginny._ ”

“ _You know I always do, hard to break old habits._ ”

 

1943

 

“Anthony.”

“Ginny.”

“We could leave again, like we did before, take him with us.”

“He won’t leave. I’ve tried, he wants to -”

“What?”

“He wants to join up.”

“What?”

“He’s been training to be a pilot.”

“When?”

“Those days he claimed he was doing research at the Bodleian for a book, he was taking flying lessons. I just found out last night. I’ve tried every argument, but you know Harry, once his mind is set on something, it’s impossible to change his decision.”

“Why, why would he -”

“He thinks there is a nobility in dying for a cause. I couldn’t tell him any different, Ginny, there are days when I would join him, and the Allies are taking just about anyone now.”

“Don’t you dare,” She hissed at him, then whispered against his chest, as he hugged her tightly, “promise me, you won’t.”

“I won’t. I swear. We have to let him go, it’s what he wants to do. I don’t want to spend his last days with us arguing about what is already decided. It’s a perfect day, let’s take a picnic to the gardens, such as they are. Please cousin, for me, put on a happy face.”

 

2008

 

Pepper placed a plate of toast in front of Stephen and sat across from him. “It’s not my business.”

“Of course it is. You are his family. He has been hurt before, and you don’t want him to get hurt again.”

“The last time.”

He could see the images that she sent him so clearly that he tried to close his eyes and mind to them, but still they got through. “Pepper. I’m so sorry. My intentions are to be here with him, to help him, to care for him, as long as he wants me to be here.”

“What about your life in New York?” She asked quietly, exhausted from reliving the worst days of her life, of their lives.

“I resigned my position before I came here.”

“Before you even met him?”

“I tried to explain it to him, the moment I saw the press conference, I felt, I don’t know how - there was a sensation, here,” he pressed his hand over his chest, and she nodded. “My career had been everything to me until that moment, and then I knew I needed to be somewhere else. I couldn’t explain it, but that night I went home, wrote that letter and the check - and when I received your letter, with the invitation to the Gala, a week later, I knew what I needed to do. I gave them the months I owed to fulfill the contract I had with the hospital, gave up my rent controlled apartment, said goodbye to my one friend - you do understand, don’t you? I was drawn here for a reason, I still don’t know all of the reasons, but I promise, I won’t do anything to hurt him, or you. You do believe me, don’t you? Please tell me you believe me, Pepper?”

In spite of herself, she put down her coffee, looked him in the eye and nodded. “Yes, Stephen, I believe you. Take that plate of toast with you, hmm? He’s waiting for you downstairs, maybe you can get him to eat a bite or two?”

He grinned at her, and kissed her cheek, then whispered as he got to his feet, “I’ll do my best. Thank you.”

She sighed as she watched him fly down the stairs, and whispered, “Be careful, my sweet boys, be so careful.”


	8. 2008

Tony looked up from the monitors to find Stephen at the door. “Jarvis.”

“Sir.” The door opened, and as Stephen stepped through, Tony was reminded of Harry again, as he proceeded to walk around the workshop, taking everything in, curiosity etched into his face, he was already nearly a decade older than Harry had been when he - no - this Strange had no need to challenge the skies, he was very much earthbound, there was no war he had to fight.

“You use holograms, I’d only read articles - never seen it up close, this is all you, isn’t it?” His voice held a quiet admiration, and as his hand landed gently on his shoulder, Tony breathed out a sigh of relief, and understood for the first time that the tightness in his chest seemed to ease when Stephen was near him, nothing earth-shattering, really, just a gentle sense of peace allowed him to forget the pain - he understood somehow -

He closed his eyes as Stephen’s hand moved from his shoulder to the small of his back, and he felt the tension simply leave his body, and yet, he was still standing somehow.

“Stephen…”

“Just breathe, Tony.”

“I don’t understand, I don’t feel -”

“I took your pain, essentially, not that simple of course, I’m helping your mind to focus on my touch, instead of the pain you are holding onto, the pain you have been holding onto even before Afghanistan, you took on Harry’s pain when he died in your arms, you’ve been carrying it for so long now, it was never yours to bear, Tony. He wouldn’t have wanted you to. He was all light, he wasn’t meant to be earthbound for so long, deep down, you knew that the day you met him. It’s why you understood when he joined up, why you let him go when it was within your power to keep him with you.”

Tony shook his head and whispered, “I promised him,” as he collapsed forward and laid his hands on his work table to steady himself, “I swore, when he asked, he knew -”

“I know.”

“Ten years out of centuries, just a decade, Stephen. When he died, I wanted to go with him, but instead, I kept breathing, for Pepper mostly, but I also promised him that I wouldn’t forget him, I would keep -” He turned around to face him, and saw the sparkle in his eyes, the same light that he had missed for so long. As he settled against Stephen’s chest and let out a whimper, Stephen’s arms draped around him and they breathed together as if they were one soul, in two bodies, finally reunited after a long journey.

“I’m here, Tony, I’m here.”


End file.
